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SENATOR ARNOLD'S 



DEATH BED CONFESSION ^ 




£\ HE following lines were suggested 'liy reading "A 
^Ji^ Tale of Two Nations," a most wonderful book, in 
which there is outlined a plot showing the reasons why 
silver should be demonetized in the United States, m order 
to further the schemes of those originating the plot. Among 
the parties thereto is one Senator Arnold (a Senator from 
the United States), who is supposed to be the prime mover 
in the execution of the plot in the American Congress. 



5 3527 

084 S4 Dedicated to. 

896 I 

opy 1 



BY THE AUTHOR. 



Single Copies \\ ill be mailed to any party sending six cents in stamps to 

THE NATIONAL SILVER PARTY, 

Clifton House, Chicago, 

or H. O. NOURSE, 

Koom 8i, 84 Adams St., Chicago. 



Senator Arnold's Death=Bed Confession, 

' C 

Say not that I must die, Doctor, recall what you have said, ■ /j^^ *" 

Aud tell me by your power and skill you'll lift me from this bed'. '^ ■ - 

I who from manliood's early stage have in the halls of state \ ? « 

Stood with mien so dignified that men of lesser fate 

Have envied me, and even now, though three score years and ten 

Are measured 'gainst my scale of life, would change with me, if when 

The change were made, in lieu of youth, my fortune and my name 

Could be transferred to their account, for wealth and worldly fame 

Is all that some souls seem to crave, but I would gladly give 

My name, my fortune, fame and all if I might only live 

To right one wrong, one single act, which by my hand was planned, 

That paralyzed our Nation's wealth and sterilized its land. 

Say, Doctor, tell me, must T die — is there no lingering hope 

To which I may still longer cling while with my case you cope? 

Oh, tell me not that I must die, give life a newer lease — 

That e'er 1 go to meet my God He'll grant to me some peace. 

One year, one month, one week, one day in which to make amends 

For all the evil 1 have wrought, before my soul descends 

Into that chilling stream of death whose icy bosom bears 

The unforgiven souls like mine direct to Hell's main stairs 

Down which, headlong, such blackened souls to eternal miseries fall, 

"Where the only food is agony and only drink is gall. 

Oh! let me live but one daj^ more that God may cleanse my soul 
And make it fit to see just once, in Heaven, the streets of gold. 
With His forgiveness. I could feel, should I my sin confess, 
My countrymen, mj^ fearful wrong could even yet redress. 
I can not, must not, will not die; I dare not meet my God; 
To place my soul beneath His scourge, beneath His chastening rod 
Is but to hurry down to hell, where souls of^traitors speed. 
For mine is doomed, full well I know, by my insatiate greed. 

Listen. Doctor, let me tell the story of my crime, 

'Twill darken history's pages now, and for all coming time. 

It dates back to the time we the Union had preserved, 

When men their country's honor saved, and better fate deserved. 

"While men upon the battlefield were fighting for the right, 

I sat within the halls of state and calmly watched the fight, 

And when the clouds had rolled away and peace spread o'er theplain 

One million homes were mourning for the wounded and the slain. 

Not only was our soldiers' flood drained to enrich the soil, 

But our money, too. had gone, man's best reward of toil 

Had melted like the snows of Heaven in payment of our need; 

'Twas then the tempter came to me, appealing to my greed. 

Our debts had grown until our land was struggling 'neath the load. 
Our creditors smiled with fiendish joy while counting what we owed. 



But God was good. Our noble liills with silver and with g-old 
He had filled with riches which would pay our debts twofold. 
We coined both into money, both gold and silver bright — 
Witli w.hich to pay our war debts and make our burdens light. 
'Twas then the tempter bought me, bought my will, my soul 
To help him strike down silver that he might get our gold. 
1 undertook the hellish scheme and engineered the bill 
Which had for its dire purpose one half our wealth to kill. 

But few could know the purpose — I must needs deal in stealth 

In aiding such a fearful crime which cut our nation's wealth 

Down by one half. So deep laid cunning I employed 

To aid the passage of a law by which silver was destroyed. 

Ah, well do I recall the day when in this wretched hand 

I held the bribe my honor bought, by which the fairest land 

'Neath Heaven's shining sun was filled with more distress and woe 

Than had o'ertaken any land since Rome's fall long ago. 

A long time passed before my crime was known to men of state, 

So cunning had the scheme been laid as to appear like fate 

Had brought the causes which are now distressing this fair land, 

Instead of being the foul work of this, a Traitor's hand. 

Yet those who bought me knew, and I and God knew all the time 

How I had tried His face to hide in the blackness of ray crime! 

I thought my conscience I could kill with deeds so foul and dark; 

I did succeed in smothering it, but one dim little spark 

Was kept alive, and when the storm of indignation came 

This smoldering spark burst forth at once into a burning flame. 

Ah, well do I remember when the storm swept o'er the land 

How 1 trembled lest the men of state would see my cunning hand. 

The press throughout our country urged the righting of the wrong 

And the Congress of ths nation rose, a mighty threatening throng. 

I tremble now as I recall the scenes of seventy-eight 

When first the knowledge of my crime came to the men of state. 

I heard their voices ringing out against the plot so vile 

And shuddered as I tried to hide my work beneath a smile 

So villainous and satanic as to cover every trace 

Of consciousness of wrong doing behind a callous face. i 

Oh, how the words of Logan, Blaine and even John Carlisle 

Have lived in memory through the years, to me so full of guile. 

But these things 1 had buried in a heart so full of shame 

As to quench the quickening conscience, extinguishing the flame 

Until later on I heard the cry of misery ia our land 

And looking saw the wretchedness brought on by this vile hand. 

Those burning words of Carlisle, when he said with force so grand, 
That destruction of one-half our coin would bring to this fair land 
More misery than pestilence and ail the wars of blood. 
Or all the famines in which men starved for the want of food 
Have rung in memory like the chimes of one's own funeral bell 
And made me live a life like that of those who doomed to dwell, 
In lakes of fire where mortal man's corrupted soul must find 
No rest, but woe eternal where Remorse lives in the mind. 




A thousand homes I've seen since then once happy, bri^rht and fair, 
Turned into hovels, tilled with want, with misery and despair. 
I've seen strong men at loss of wealth brouoht on bj^ my dark cri "~ 
Fall from estates of purity e'en down to that foul slime 
In which my wretched soul has dragged its foul polluted self, 
And sell themselves, as I did, for that filthy sordid pelf 
Which kills our manhood, robs the soul of everything sublime 
And makes it fit for dwelling with the followers of crime. 
Their daughters driven to despair with nothing but a name, 
Upon the world's cold charity have fallen into shame. 
And children, too, the little ones, too weak to stem the tide. 
Have fallen by the wayside and starving there have died. 

Oh, how these things surround me, as in the halls of death 

I see their pictures gathering as each escaping breath 

Bears me nearer to the dungeon to which my soul must go, 

Where naught but sordid-putrid souls in an eternal woe 

Shall live through ceaseless ages hearing naught but moans of Hell. 

Listen! the clock is striking now, it is rny own death-knell. 

Oh, Heaven, let me look upon thy golden streets to-day, 

Throw open wide thy pearly gates and let me see the way 

Where good men go when through with life their just rewards to find. 

Oh God, 1 know that Thou art good, Thou canst not be unkind ; 

None can against Thy justice bring complaint. But mercy show. 

Grant me. oh God, forgetfulness before I must needs go; 

Tear out my memory; kill the mind; destroy my consciousness. 

Oh God, remove all traces of the vilest wretchedness 

That e'er befell a mortal since within fair Eden's gate 

Thou didst Thine image give to man in that his first estate. 

By Adam's sin all men were made to suffer by his fall, 

But redemption Thou didst offer to sinners great and small ; 

Yet my sin so o'erwhelms me I dare not seek Thy grace, 

So all I ask of Thee, oh God, is tliat Thou wilt erase 

My name frono oft" the pages where the names of men are kept 

And into dark oblivion let my name, most foul, be swept. 

Come nearer. Doctor, T can't see, my sight is growing dim ; 

Ten thousand imps surround my bed; their laughter, oh, how grim. 

There comes the Devil ; see his coach ! his steeds have manes of fiame; 

An empty seat beside him for — my God ! it bears my name. 

One drink I one more, I burn. Oli God. forgive me, save my soul, 

I can not, must not, dare not die. Take all, take all my gold 

But let me live just one more hour that God may hear my prayer, 

Then banish me. destroy me. but send me not down there. 

Where through eternal ages in the agonies of Hell 

My tortured soul forever in that burning lake must dwell. 

Here. Doctor, hold me. Take my hand. I'm falling. Save me. Save— 

Farewell, I go down to — down to — down to a villain's gravel 

H. O. NOURSE, 

Room 80, 84 Adams St., CHICAGO. 

[Copyright by H. O. Nourse, 1896.] 



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